


Toast

by TheHomieHeda



Series: Hard to Love [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Because bad influences, But she's kinda not, Clarke is mad, F/F, G!p Lexa, Lexa gets in trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHomieHeda/pseuds/TheHomieHeda
Summary: Since you've known her, Lexa has never really been one to drink.  She'll allow herself a beer every now and then, if you're having dinner at your parents' house (because your dad will drink one too), but she's never really let loose and gotten shit-canned since you've been together.It's not that you wanted it to happen, per se.  But at the same time, you kinda did.  Because from everything you'd heard from Anya and Lincoln, Drunk Lexa was pretty great.  You thought sober Lexa was the shit, honestly, but the stories of Drunk Lexa had you feening for a taste.





	Toast

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies: This is kinda short and dialogue heavy.  
> But there's humor. And fluff.

Since you've known her, Lexa has never really been one to drink. She'll allow herself a beer every now and then, if you're having dinner at your parents' house (because your dad will drink one too), but she's never really let loose and gotten shit-canned since you'd been together.

It's not that you wanted it to happen, per se. But at the same time, you kinda did. Because from everything you'd heard from Anya and Lincoln, Drunk Lexa was pretty great. You thought sober Lexa was the shit, honestly, but the stories of Drunk Lexa had you feening for a taste.

That was until you got a phone call at 1 a.m. from the hospital saying that your wife had been involved in an accident.

~~< < :: >>~~

"Hello, I'm looking for a.....Clarke?" the girl on the phone said.

"Umm...yes," you rasped, clearing your throat before replying, "I'm Clarke. Who is this?"

"Hey, this is Tris. From the ER, here at Arkadian Bay. I work 12 to 12. Just got hired last month so I don't think we've ever met, but I've heard a lot of great things about you."

"I...umm...thank you."

"Sorry, I'm rambling," the girl half-laughed. "I'm sorry to call you so late but...we have your wife here in the ER. Her friend....Octavia(?)....told us to call you."

"What happened?" you asked, sitting straight up in your bed. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Just a minor accident--"

"I'll be there in 30 minutes."

"Wait!! CLARKE!!"

"What??!"

"She umm...she asked us not to call you. Usually we go with what the patient says but...her friend was adamant that you needed to be notified."

"I...I don't understand. She didn't want me there?"

The girl gave another nervous laugh. "She's... _moderately_ intoxicated right now."

"I'm sorry? Are you sure you have the right person?" you tried to confirm. "My wife's name is Le-"

"Lexa, yes I know," Tris said, and for some reason you could picture her nodding on the other end of the phone. "Her other friend...a Ms Reyes(?)...she's been saying her name quite a bit since they've been here."

You were pissed. You had just gotten Brette to sleep and you were falling asleep yourself when this girl called. To let you know that your wife was in the ER, after an accident, because she was drunk. And for some reason, all of this was funny to the girl on the phone. And apparently to your wife's friends as well.

"I'm getting my kids up and I'll be there in 30 minutes. Tell Raven and O that I'll be murdering them _both_ on sight"

You didn't wait for an answer or acknowledgement. You hung up and dragged yourself out of the comfort of your bed and threw on some clothes before you gathered up your kiddos and got them in the car. The entire drive to the hospital, Binx was sitting in the backseat asking you, "Mommy, where are we goin? Mommy, are you okay?"

"Yes baby," you assured him with a smile in the rear-view mirror. "Mommy's okay. We're just going to Mommy's job real quick. We have to pick up Mama."

"Mama's...at your work?" he said.

"Yes. We have to go pick up Mama at my work. And probably Tia Rae and Auntie O, too."

"Tia Rae and Auntie O are...at your work, too?"

"Yes sir," you nodded. "And 20 bucks says your Nawnu Anya has something to do with this, Squidlet."

"Uh oh. Nawnu's in trouble?"

"Oh yes," you laughed too hard to be able convince anyone you were actually mad. "Nawnu is _definitely_ in trouble. Just like Mama."

" _Mama's in trouble_??" he asked with his eyebrows raised in surprise as you shot him a glare in the rearview mirror. "Oooooohhh," he mimicked the sound Octavia would make when he would get in trouble. "Mama's gonna get a powpow."

"You bet your sweet little tush she's getting a powpow," you told him. "Mama, Tia, Auntie, and Nawnu are all getting powpows for waking Mommy up."

When he giggled like a mad-man in the backseat, you shook your head and promised yourself that this night would not end without profuse apologies from all involved.

You pulled into the parking lot and unloaded your 5 yr old and your baby, placing them into the stroller that Lexa had paid to have custom built. As much as you wanted to be perturbed about all of this, part of you was kind of worried about the condition you'd find her in. What kind of accident had she been in? She was supposed to be at Octavia and Lincoln's engagement party, which you had assured her over and over that you were fine with not attending. How did this all go so wrong? Once you arrived at the ER registration desk, you told them who you were there to see and that Tris had called you.

"Ahh," the guy at the desk grinned. " _You_ must be Clarke."

"Why do I get the feeling there's a story behind that?" you said, slightly annoyed.

"We've heard your name a lot tonight," he answered, pushing a button under the desk to open the ER doors for you to enter. "She's in room 12. Go easy on her. It's been a... _very_ traumatic night."

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you made your way through the door.

You had just turned down the hall when you heard Raven, loud as fuck, telling your wife, "Lexa. _Calm down_. She's not gonna be mad. I swear."

"Yes she is," Lexa's voice filtered into your ears. "She's gonna blame Anya."

She was goddamn right you blamed Anya. Anya was basically the little devil on Lexa's shoulder. Thus far, you had avoided having to kill her. But you were seriously reconsidering it after this. Because you LOVED your sleep. You needed it. And the one night that Lexa agrees to go out without you, she ends up in the hospital at fucking 1 o'clock in the morning. You had, literally, _no doubts_ that Anya was involved.

"Well, in all fairness, she kind of is--" Raven stopped the minute she saw you standing in the doorway. "Heyyyyyya Clarkey. Como estas?"

You stood there, mouth gaping open at your wife sitting in the hospital bed--the hospital where you worked--wearing a fireman's outfit. 

"What the fuck is she wearing?" you looked at Raven, then at Octavia. "What-the actual fuck-is she wearing?"

"Fireman!" Binx squealed from the stroller.

You wanted to be upset. You really fucking did. But when you saw Lexa's face light up at the sound of your son's voice, you couldn't even pretend to be upset with her. She stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, straight to the stroller, and reached to pick up your son. His hands went right up to the brim of her fireman's hat, pulling it off of her head and putting onto his own. They then zero'd in on the shiny silver buckles of the jacket. You watched in awe as he looked at her, his head cocked to the side, eyeing her face with a smile.

"Mama, why you wearing a fireman suit? Did...did you go to a fire?"

"No. No fire, little man," she smiled at him.

"Oh yes there was," Raven chirped under her breath to Octavia.

You watched your wife side-eye your friend and then turn back to your 5 yr old. "I missed you," she said. "How was your supper? Did you eat good for Mommy?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. "I cleaned my plate."

"You _did_?" she asked him in playful shock, looking at you for confirmation before realizing that you were not supposed to be there. "I......Hey doll," she gave you a shy smile. "Did...did they wake you up?"

"They did," you confirmed.

"Did they tell you what happened?"

"Nope," You shook your head, trying not to grin like a possum. "But I would _love_ to hear about it."

"Wellllll, since you _asked_ , what had happened was," Raven interrupted, "We were all playing 'Truth, Drink, or Dare'. And Anya kept fucking picking Lexa-"

"Of course she did," you said.

"Shh, not done," she countered, "Anyways, Lexa kept picking Drink, and Anya called the council together because Lexa had hit her 'Drink-Max', which nobody else has but she's kind of a lightweight. So....she REFUSED to go with Truth, because you know how Anya gets with her questions-"

"I do."

"-which is why Lexa had no choice but to pick Dare."

"Uh huh," you nodded, smirking because you could see (maybe) where this was headed.

"So seeing as it was _my_ engagement party," Octavia cut into the conversation. "Anya dared Lexa to pull a Magic Mike."

"I'm sorry, a what?" you asked, unsure of what that meant.

"A Magic Mike. She had to give me a lap-dance."

You immediately turned your gaze to your wife who was holding your son in her arms like a human-shield. "You're mad, huh?" she asked, wincing.

"I'm going to be if someone doesn't explain to me how a lap-dance ended up in the ER. MY ER to be exact."

"You should have seen her, Clarke," Raven cackled. "She was fucking--" her eyes went straight to the blonde little boy in Lexa's arms. "Sorry...she was _flipping_ brilliant."

"It's true," O nodded with a huge grin plastered onto her face. "Lexa was pulling out all kinds of moves up there."

"Up _there_?" You repeated. "Up _where_?"

"On the stage," Octavia said as if you should have known already. "They had my chair right up against the pole-"

"What pole??" you jerked your head around to your wife. "This was supposed to be a HOUSE party. At someone's house."

"And it was," Raven explained. "Until the house got too full and we had to take it elsewhere."

"Okay," you took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's get back to the 'accident'. What kind of 'accident' was this, exactly?"

You watched, in terror, as all three of them looked at each other with their fingers pointing to one another like they couldn't decide who to designate to speak now.

"Maybe Lexa should tell it," Raven seemed kind of nervous.

"Yeah," Octavia said, sitting back down in the chair beside Lexa's bed. "She should definitely tell it."

"Alright, _somebody_ better tell me within the next 10 seconds or-"

"IslammedmyheadintothepoleputtingmygoodiesinOctavia'sface" your wife said so quickly you weren't even sure if you two were speaking the same language.

"You did what?"

"I slammed my head into the pole putting my goodies in Octavia's face," she repeated, a blush rising from her neck up.

Your jaw went slack and your mouth hung open like the ghosts in Casper, stuffing their faces with all that food. Your wife. Slammed her head. Into a stripper pole. While giving your mutual friend a lap-dance. And putting her 'goodies' in her face.

"Explain," was all you could muster at that point.

"I was dancing," she started cautiously, "And I had seen this move on a movie once, where the guy puts his head between the girl's legs--"

"I'm not liking where this is going," you said.

"--and he uses his hands on the side of the chair to do a headstand, flip his legs over so his crotch is in the girl's face, and then he lifts his upper-body up so he's practically sitting on her shoulders like that."

"Yep," you shook your head, "Still not loving this."

"So I tried it," your wife said, looking at your son for a second and then returning her eyes to you. "And I killed it, until I tried to flip my upper-body up like that and...well that's when I slammed my head into the pole."

"In her defense," Raven stuck her nose in again, acting as if she were your wife's attorney and trying to keep her from being sentenced to the couch tonight. "She'd been drinking. Like, A LOT. We're talking _copious_ amounts of alcohol here. And I think we can all agree that doing a headstand is not exactly easy on a good day, plus all that blood rushing to your head when you're already tipsy, no es bueno, Clarkey. No es bueno."

"You done?" You waited and she nodded at you. You kept your face the perfect picture of calm as you looked at your wife after hearing Raven's argument. "Alright. And the fireman's outfit?"

"I had to pay one of the dancers to let me wear it," your wife shrugged.

"How much...did you have to pay...to wear the strippers outfit, Lexa?"

"$20 and a kiss," she answered with her face scrunched up, seemingly in disgust at herself and her actions.

"You kissed her?"

"No, she kissed me."

"It's the same thing Lexa!"

"No it's not!" she argued. "Plus....she kissed my ass."

"SHE WHAT?!"

"I asked if I could wear her outfit for a dare, and she said-- _and I quote_ \--'For $20 dollars and a kiss on that ass, I'll let you wear whatever you want'."

"Not helping, Lex," O said, shaking her head and using her hand to make a slashing gesture across her neck, trying to tell your wife to end it there. Just give up and take the L.

"So I gave her $20," your wife continued, obliviously, "And I pulled down the back of my pants and underwear, just enough for her to see my ass-cheek. Not even the whole ass-cheek like you get to see," she tried to make it sound better. It did _kinda_ make you feel a little warm and fuzzy on the inside, but you weren't going to tell her that. Not then. 

"And she kissed it. _Actually_ , no she didn't." You almost laughed--seriously, you were _so_ close to cracking up and blowing your cover--because Lexa was never good at lying and this was the most talkative you'd ever seen her. You decided then that you liked Drunk Lexa. Very much. 

"She bit it," the brunette kept going, " _She pulled a JAWS on my ass-cheek._ Annndd... _AND_...it hurt. So I earned this fucking fireman's outfit." she said somewhat proudly. "If you let me keep it. I mean I already left the club with it, which I guess its kinda like stealing but like I said, consider it damages for the teeth-marks on my ass."

When she looked at you and her face changed to that puppy dog look you loved so much, you struggled like you'd never struggled before to try and keep your mad-face on, telling her, ' _We're continuing this conversation at home. Let's go_.' Raven and Octavia tried to get you to leave them there, saying they'd rather wait for Anya or Lincoln to sober up and come get them than to get in the car with you mad. You laughed, but then you told them to get their asses in the car before you ran them over with it. It was an empty threat, but it worked.

Once you'd dropped those two off at their respective places, you were alone in the car with your wife and your sleeping babies. She looked anxious. Her legs were jumping and her fingers kept toying with the buckles of her jacket. Thankfully she'd taken off the hat for the car ride home. You let her wait it out until you pulled into the driveway of your house, until you couldn't stand it anymore, and then you put the car in park, unfastened your seatbelt, reached your hand over and behind your wife's neck, and pulled her face to meet yours halfway across the center console. Your lips smashed into hers with lightning speed, and she seemed taken aback by it but she didn't pull away. In fact, she rearranged herself to where she could lean further over, almost pushing you into your seat as she kissed the hell out of you. You bit her lip, _hard_ , and when she jerked back to look at you, you smiled.

"Don't forget who you come home to," you told her.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't care that you danced for Octavia," you said. "As long as you were comfortable and you felt good doing it, I'm okay with it."

"Are you sure?" she asked you, her face still showing some concern. "You seemed mad. Were you just sleepy? You get mad when you're sleepy-"

"I'm sure, baby," you smiled at her rant. "And I'm only mad I wasn't there to see it."

"To see me hit my head?"

" _Nooo_. To see you dancing like Magic Mike," you teased. "Truthfully, I'm not even mad about the stripper kissing--I'm sorry, _ATTACKING_ \--your ass-cheek."

"You're not?"

"I'm not," you promised her. "I trust you Lexa. I trust you to go out and have fun and be silly with our friends. As long as you don't forget that _I'm_ your wife, _I_ love you, _I_ share your bed, and there is nothing that someone else will do for you that _I_ wouldn't, okay?"

"I don't want someone else, Clarke," she said. It was like it was the most obvious thing in the world to her. Like she didn't understand how you couldn't see it. "I never loved anyone until you. And I don't want to love anyone else, either."

"Good," you said, trying not to let what she said make you cry. You were soft--too fucking soft for her. "Because I'm not above killing a bitch. What's mine is mine, and I'm not going to share."

"You want me to dance for you, then?" she smirked, feeling playful all of a sudden. "You want me to put my goodies in _your_ face?"

You shook your head and laughed at her, pulling her towards you for another kiss. "Help me get these kids in bed and I'm gonna show you where the fire is."

"I love you," she said, making your heart stop and restart.

"I love you too, Lex. Always."

"Forever." 


End file.
